


Gravity

by Ceryna



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Soul-Searching, beware the angst, brief mentions of Alien!Keith, creative liberties have been taken, it has a happy ending i promise, stay tuned for space metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7556071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceryna/pseuds/Ceryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Keith used to think home was a place.</i><br/> <br/><i>It couldn’t be just any place. It had to be one of extreme gravitational force- sort of like a black hole. </i><br/><br/><i>The energy there, the people you grow up with- the environment continuously pulls you back, even across light-years upon light-years of space. </i><br/><br/><i>Keith had lived in too many places, never long enough to consider any of them a home. He’d just… lived there. That was about it.</i><br/><br/><i>It never occurred to him until just recently that home didn’t have to be a place. It could be a person. Or people. It’s unbounded by time and location, and it’s only a home if you think it is.</i><br/> <br/><i>He’s been doing a lot of thinking lately."</i><br/><br/><br/>Keith is exhausted but can't sleep so he goes to the castle's observatory and reflects on how he got to where he is: defending the universe and understanding that the concept of home doesn't have to be a place.   </p><p>So when did he start associating home with <i>Lance?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> This was begging to be written and it kicked my ass. I'm hoping I didn't get too carried away since I lost a lot of sleep over these space boys. 
> 
> To [baileynm](http://baileynm.tumblr.com), [abbuneki](http://abbuneki.tumblr.com), [chartron](https://chartron.tumblr.com), [fishuus](http://fishuus.tumblr.com), and [gretateg](http://gretateg.tumblr.com), the artists whose works inspired this one: thank you all so very much for giving me permission to share your work along with my story! Without your art, this story wouldn't be here.
> 
> Their specific artworks can be found at the links in the story as well as in the end notes. Please note that not all artwork corresponds with an exact scene.
> 
> I have also created a Spotify playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/ceryna3/playlist/5X0ThZCA4ZCx25hkR0mPah) that you can listen to as you read if you so choose. All the songs, with the exception of the last one, are instrumental.
> 
> If you notice any grammar, spelling, or other mechanical mistakes, please tell me so I can fix them!
> 
> Additionally:  
> \--- indicates a break  
> *** indicates a break within a flashback  
> I hope you enjoy the story!

Keith can’t sleep.

 

It’s nothing out of the ordinary these days. All the fighting blends together, a seamless stream of cannonfire, explosions, and yells that isn’t particularly traumatizing… but it doesn’t ease him to sleep either.

 

He’s physically drained. He knows that getting frustrated at being unable to sleep will only keep him awake, making him more exhausted. Just thinking about being frustrated in his current state is tiring, so he stops. After another minute staring at the dark ceiling, he throws off his blanket and heads quietly out of the room, his pillow tucked under one arm and his bayard in the other.

 

The hall lights flicker dimly on as he emerges and flicker off as he moves out of range. His footsteps are quiet as he crosses the marble-esque floor, ascends the stairs, and enters the observatory.

 

\---

 

_It never takes Keith particularly long to find a place._

 

_He's been told he has a keen sense of direction but he knows there’s more to it than that. He's just drawn to the unexplained. In the same way he'd found the blue lion- pulled by a mysterious energy source to a faraway place- he'd wandered the halls of the castle until something tugged him through the observatory doorway._

 

_He didn't bother mentioning his discovery to anyone. There wasn't really an opportunity to, and even when there was, everyone seemed busy in their own ways. Shiro was focusing on leading, Pidge was occupied with searching for their family, and Allura was grieving for her father... Coran with monitoring the castle's functions and supporting Allura and the team, Hunk with encouraging everyone, engineering, and trying to get the goo to resemble Earth food (in taste if not in looks), and Lance... just thinking about Lance has Keith sighing and shaking his head._

 

_Lance was busy doing Lance things, which ranged primarily from disturbing the peace (though peace is relative during intergalactic war) by singing loudly (occasionally accompanied by dancing, which he is actually decent at- also which Keith will not admit aloud) to cracking jokes and pickup lines at the most inconvenient times (they're too bad to be good, but he’s had to increase his efforts to stop himself from laughing so Lance isn't encouraged)._

 

_(Then again, Lance is encouraged regardless, so what's the harm?)_

 

\---

 

It's thoughts like that last one that contribute to Keith's mind's inability to shut down.

 

He can't say he dislikes them, though.

 

Those kinds of thoughts push out the battle memories and diminish the stress of being a defender of the universe. Those are the thoughts that linger in his mind- the ones that have become a constant, an anchor in Keith's ever-changing world.

 

Maybe anchor isn't the right word, considering he's in space and anchors don’t work in zero gravity, but he doesn't bother searching his mind for an alternative. Instead, he settles back against one of the columns and gazes out at the stars.

 

The [vastness of space](http://baileynm.tumblr.com/post/146828254372/i-want-to-know-more-about-keith) doesn’t terrify him like it does others. That’s not to say it doesn’t terrify him- rather, it terrifies him for different reasons than most.

 

Others are concerned with everything from the sun exploding (calm down, people) to hostile alien life (which he knows a lot more about _now_ than before) to Armageddon by asteroid (Seriously, people. Calm down.).

 

Keith is terrified that he’ll never find a home within the vastness.

 

He'd enrolled in the Garrison to get away from Earth- to escape a place that had never felt like home. There, he developed his knowledge of everything galactic and his innate talent as a pilot, all the while hoping he was one step closer to finding a home in the stars.

 

Just as he'd been recruited to pilot an actual mission- _just as he’d gotten the chance to start a physical search for a home_ \- they’d shot him down, claiming the incident and his expulsion were the result of disciplinary issues, which was definitely not the case.

 

Okay, maybe it was. But that’s beside the point.

 

\---

 

_“Sir, I want to know what happened on the Kerberos mission.”_

 

_Commander Iverson just stares at him emptily with his one eye, his expression frozen in an impassionate frown. “We already made the announcement, cadet. That’s all there is to it.”_

 

_“Shiro-” Keith catches himself and restarts his statement. “Takashi Shirogane-” he tries not to overemphasize the next word and fails- “ **is** one of the best pilots the Garrison has ever had. I don’t believe he would have crashed. Is there anything else you can tell me?” _

 

_There’s a slight twitch in the commander’s expression but it remains the same- stoically cold. “I have nothing else to report. Cadet Kogane, you’re dismissed.”_

 

_Keith's eyes narrow, his hands curling up into fists. He takes a deep breath, knowing he's expected to walk away, but asks the burning question, consequences be damned. "Can I participate in the rescue mission?"_

 

_Iverson looks back up at him, brow furrowing even further. He pushes back from his desk and stands as though he’s been threatened. “You’re dismissed, cadet.”_

 

_Keith should step back and walk out of the room but he doesn’t. He wants answers. “Sir, I think I can be of help-”_

 

_“All you’re being right now, cadet, is a pain in the arse. You’re dismissed,” Iverson repeats, staring pointedly at him and then at the door._

 

_Keith bites his tongue, offering the commander an icy glare before exiting the room._

 

_***_

 

_It’s not a coincidence that Keith, a few days later, is using Commander Iverson’s computer terminal to search through restricted access files for information on the Kerberos mission._

 

_He’d gotten the code to hack the system in some of Shiro’s things- as Keith recalled, it had been a gift (from a… Matt, was it?) that Shiro had never intended to use- Keith figured Shiro wouldn’t mind._

 

_There’d been too many search results for “Kerberos Mission” so he tried narrowing the results by date and then by searching “rescue” within them._

 

 **_Your search returned 0 results,_**   _the screen reads._

 

_Keith refrains from slamming his hands on the desk in frustration and glares at the screen. Putting his irritation aside, he roots around for any more useful information before escaping back to his room._

 

_***_

 

_The hack doesn’t go unnoticed._

 

 _Keith knows there’d been some safeguards within the code to prevent himself from being identified. But he couldn’t_ **_not_ ** _ask if the Garrison had received any new information. He has to be careful though, reluctantly limiting his questions to once every few days until he gets sick of being given the runaround and ending up with the door slammed in his face._

 

_Tired of not knowing and furious at not being trusted, he attempts to use the code again at a different terminal but has no luck._

 

_He’s on his way back to his bunk when Garrison personnel intercept him, bringing him before the commander._

 

_“Cadet Kogane,[explain yourself](http://abbuneki.tumblr.com/post/147295273618/abbuneki-what-a-shame-bonus).” _

 

_Keith attempts nonchalance while inwardly fuming, with little success. “I was taking the initiative. Sir.”_

 

_“Taking initiative on what, cadet?”_

 

_“Researching the Kerberos mission for a rescue operation to retrieve the crew. Sir.” He almost forgets the ‘sir’ that time._

 

_Iverson waves his hand passively. “The Kerberos mission has been deemed a failure and the investigation’s been closed. More importantly, we-”_

 

 _“Reopen it,” Keith interrupts, not wanting that sentence to end. More importantly_ **_what?_** _What could possibly be more important?_

 

_One of the other Garrison personnel steps forward. “Don’t interrupt your superior officer-” he begins, only to be silenced by another hand wave._

 

_Keith seizes the opportunity to continue. “The Kerberos mission wouldn’t have been authorized if it wasn’t important. The crew was handpicked to perform the research. Why the hell are their lives being disregarded like this?”_

 

_The commander’s voice is steely as he retorts, “Cadet, all operations involving the Kerberos mission have been suspended as the crew has been presumed dead. I’m not at liberty to say more than that.”_

 

 _The words echo in his brain, ricocheting in his skull and eroding what’s left of his rational thought._ **_Presumed dead. Presumed dead. Presumed dead presumed dead dead dead_** _\- He fights his way out from under that shitton of bricks, coming up snarling._

 

 _“Like_ **_hell_ ** _they’re dead!” His fists make contact with the desk, upending a mug and scattering some loose files._

 

_Iverson looks down at him, grimacing in an all too patronizing manner that makes Keith’s blood boil. “You may be the most talented pilot in your class, boy, but you won’t be if you’re hung up on this forever. I’m afraid we can’t overlook your breaches of protocol, so I’m going to have to assign you to…”_

 

_Keith stops listening. He darts forward, catching the collar of Iverson’s uniform between his fingers, ready to scream into oblivion, but… he finds he’s run out of words._

 

_Well, that’s not quite it. He can’t pick the words to accurately emphasize his feelings- a swarm of rage, grief, irritation, regret, and disbelief._

 

_His mouth snaps shut with this realization, teeth clacking painfully as he swallows. Releasing the commander’s lapels, he steps back, wiping his hands on his garrison uniform._

 

_“Cadet…” Iverson’s voice is finally tinged with emotion. “I’m sorry for your loss-”_

 

 _“He’s_ **_not_ ** _lost!” Keith’s pulse thuds in his ears as he snaps, arm swinging upwards to hit Iverson’s jaw. He only manages to clip it with his knuckles._

 

_Any hint of sympathy has gone out the window. “Cadet Kogane. You’re dismissed.”_

 

_“Dismissed from what?” He doesn’t bother adding on the ‘sir.’_

  
_The commander sighs, rubbing his jaw. “Dismissed from the Galaxy Garrison.”_

_***_

_He’s accompanied by personnel back to his room with instructions that he has ten minutes to pack before they escort him off the premises._

_Keith wants to laugh. His bag has been ready since the night of the first hack, and Iverson is probably overjoyed to finally have an excuse to get rid of him._

_He isn’t happy to leave. It **stings**. The people with the most means to do something about the disappearance of his friend on a mission gone awry- not only are they going to do absolutely **nothing** , even if they were- he could no longer be a part of it. _

 

\---

 

The glass is cold to the touch but Keith presses his fingers to it anyway, pretending he’s tracing a galaxy across the stars. He finds himself wanting to name it… _Lance,_ of all things.

 

It has nothing to do with how the stars seem to glow a distinct blue-white like the blasts when Lance fires his energy rifle. It has nothing to do with how the gasses seem to coalesce into a flowing river, like how he fights- steadily, without panicking, shots accurately finding their targets. It has nothing to do with how, when he grins, his enthusiasm radiates outward like the flare of a supernova.

 

It has everything to do with how Keith’s heart bursts out of his chest and leaps into his throat when he witnesses Lance doing any of these things.

 

\---

 

_He’s seen Lance’s smile plenty of times- of course he doesn’t remember the first. But the first one that sent his gut flopping like a fish out of water- how could he forget?_

_***_

_The blams of the energy blasts echo in Keith’s helmet as he maneuvers the stolen hovercraft across the planet’s surface._

_“Duck, mullet head!” Lance hollers from behind him._

_“My name is **Keith** ,” he replies. It’s more of a statement than a complaint as he drops lower in the pilot’s seat. Not a second later, Lance fires his energy rifle through the space where he’d just been. “Ten o’clock!” Keith has to shout because his words are getting lost in the wind. He pulls a sharp left around a bend before increasing the hovercraft’s speed even further. _

_Lance rests the barrel of his energy rifle on the top of Keith’s head, firing in the direction he’d specified. “Don’t move, mullet head!”_

_“You do realize you said that **after**_ _you took the shot, right?” Keith fights the urge to roll his eyes and scans his peripherals for any incoming enemy ships._

_Even without looking he knows Lance is offering him a cheeky grin. “My bad,” Lance replies, not nearly as apologetic as Keith thinks he should be, but there are more important things to focus on at the moment._

_Not crashing, for example._

_The two of them were elected to pose as a scout team for the planet since the castle’s scanners had trouble getting readings through the atmosphere. Thanks to improved hacking tech from Pidge, the flight data from the hovercraft and all other data readings are being transmitted to the castle as they do their flyby. Pidge is probably doing a remote hack into the Galra servers by now._

 

_Shiro used to be the only one who could use the Galra interface, which meant the whole team would have to head to the surface._

 

_Now they have Keith._

 

_There have been very few times that he believes his part-alien status has benefited the team, and this happens to be one of them._

 

_It saves time, risk, and effort. Keith gets to fly and fly fast, there’re less lions for Zarkon to try and get his hands on, and Pidge can hack remotely. The only con is that they’re consistently shot at, though Keith supposes Lance getting to shoot things and thereby building his ego is a con too (since he usually won’t shut up about it)._

_“Have you seen any fighter ships?” Lance asks him, surprisingly on topic._

_“I’ve been looking, but no, I haven’t,” he answers. “It’s just been ion cannons.”_

_“We haven’t gotten any Galra life signatures based on your data,” Pidge announces through the comm. “I’m shutting down the weapons system now.”_

_There’s a loud, electrical-sounding groan as the ion cannons power off. “Do you think this post’s been abandoned?” Keith asks._

_Pidge hmms through the comm. “The data suggest it,” they say, which isn’t really an answer._

_“We’re detecting Galra signals originating from somewhere nearby your current position!” Shiro breaks in._

_Keith takes another look at his radar. “They aren’t showing on our display,” he says, frowning. “Hang on,” he orders Lance as he executes a slingshot maneuver to return back the way they came._

_Pidge can be heard cackling through the comm. “Locking them out of their systems as we speak,” they announce gleefully._

_“Uh… guys?” Hunk interrupts nervously. “There’re fighters incoming. Ten, no- eight o’clock.”_

_“Pull back, Keith!” Allura commands. “Paladins, prepare to intercept the fighter ships!”_

_“Yeah, pull back, mullet head!” Lance jeers, finally removing the energy rifle from on top of his head._

_Keith rolls his eyes this time, responding to the jab. “We **are** pulling back.” He moves to increase speed but the controls don’t respond. He jostles the steering mechanism. _

_Nothing happens. “Pidge, you didn’t happen to override our controls, did you?”_

_“What?” Lance yells at the same time as Pidge exclaims, offended, “No! Why would I do that?”_

_Keith tunes out the ensuing argument as he plots their return course. It’s a relatively straight shot back to where the lions are parked. It’s also possible that, once they’re within sight, the lions will retrieve them._

_But first, that bend. “Pidge, I need the controls!”_

_“Working on it!” they yell back over the comm._

_“Guys, your lions are on the move!” Shiro says, relief evident in his voice. “Hunk and I are intercepting the fighters, so just meet us back at the castle.”_

_The turn is approaching rapidly. “Pidge, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but give Keith the controls!” Lance says, gaze turned skyward. He’s aiming his rifle in the direction that the fighters are expected to come from._

_“I’m trying!” Their reply is frantic and impatient, which Keith understands, but he’s running out of time._

_He turns to Lance. “Put that down,” he says, gesturing to the energy rifle, and stands in the pilot’s seat, preparing to jump. Lance’s expression is one he can’t place, but he ignores that, shouting, “Come on!”_

_Keith dives over the side of the craft, activating his suit’s jet thrusters to slow his descent. He collides with the ground at minimal speed, likely coming away with nothing worse than light bruising, if any bruising at all. He sits up, pulling off his helmet, and hears the unmistakable **boom** of the hovercraft crashing into the rock. His gaze zeroes in on Lance in a heap several paces away._

_He's on his feet and jogging over, feeling his lion approach as his boots slap the planet’s surface. “Lance!” he calls, earning a muffled but audible groan from his friend. “Are you okay?”_

_As Keith drops down beside him, Lance pushes himself into a sitting position, tugging off his helmet. His armor is covered in scratches and dirt._

_“Are you okay?” Keith repeats._

_Lance smiles sheepishly. “I should make an appointment with a med pod to be sure,” he jokes, taking Keith’s offered hand and getting to his feet before staging an overdramatic grimace. “Oh, I’m hurt! I am **very much**_ _hurt!” he says, sliding his arm over Keith’s shoulders for support._

_“And I’m batman,” Keith deadpans, moving out from under Lance’s arm._

_Lance trips over his own feet but doesn’t fall- just stumbles forward, a grin blooming on his face as he bursts into laughter._

_Keith sees[that grin](https://chartron.tumblr.com/post/146098238435/smile) and feels his gut twist in on itself. He’s frozen as his mind takes a picture of it and burns it into memory._

_“Guys! Hey guys!” Lance yells into his comm excitedly. “Keith made a joke!” Lance turns back to Keith,[still grinning](http://fishuus.tumblr.com/post/146970267702/good-team). _

_Keith elbows Lance in the chest and heads for his lion, wishing for his gut to untwist and for his mind to stop associating the word ‘ **cute** ’ with his mental Polaroid of Lance._

 

\---

 

Keith lets his fingers fall from the glass, feeling the mental exhaustion take over. It floods through him quicker than he anticipates, making him glad he dragged his pillow along.

 

He fumbles for it and slumps into it face first. Closing his eyes and keeping his breathing even, it's not long until he finally descends into sleep.

 

\---

 

_He dreams of Lance._

_Well, that may only be half true. Sometimes his subconscious will conjure up memories instead of dreams._

_***_

_When the team had finally gotten around to calculating what the date was on Earth, Lance had been sorely disappointed to discover he’d missed his birthday._

_Keith’s birthday had passed as well, but it hadn’t bothered him. He’d never done anything big to celebrate, since it was, for the most part, only him. It was just another day on the calendar._

_He’d mentioned it to Allura, who’d looked appalled, bordering on horrified. “But your name day should be celebrated!” she’d exclaimed adamantly, then went on to talk about Altean customs and the importance of name days- how they’d have huge parties with an abundance of family and friends in attendance- Lance had walked out after that, much to Keith’s confusion._

_***_

_Keith finds himself at Lance’s door with dinner since he hadn’t showed._

_“Who is it?” Lance answers hollowly from inside._

_“… Keith.”_

_Lance’s reply is abrupt. “Go away.”_

_“I have dinner?” Keith tries._

_“Don’t want any,” comes a hasty reply._

_“Hunk made your favorite?” Keith tries again._

_There’s a few seconds of hesitation before Lance gives in. “Come in.”_

_Keith hands the food over without a word. Lance accepts the platter and stirs the food around a bit before moving to set it aside. "I'll eat it," he reassures._

 

_He would ask Lance if he wants to talk about it, but he knows how empty and ridiculous the words can sound so he doesn't. Thinking back to his and Allura’s earlier discussion, he asks, "So, is there anything you want for your birthday?"_

 

_Lance drops the food tray. He turns away, curling up in his chair and pulling his knees up to his chest. "Get out," he says quietly._

 

_Keith raises an eyebrow at Lance’s odd behavior. "Does that mean you don't want anything, or…?” He trails off as Lance chokes out a laugh that could freeze the sun._

 

_“What I **want**?” _

_Keith blanches, realizing he’s said something terribly wrong._

_“I **want** to go _ **_home_ ** _,” Lance says, his voice full of nostalgia. He turns around to face Keith, his eyes watering._

 

_Seeing Keith's expression, he stands, approaching him and putting his hands on the edge of Keith's shoulders, trapping him. “Don’t you get it?” he asks earnestly._

 

 _Keith hesitates because he_ **_doesn't_ ** _._

 

_He doesn't have a good understanding of what home is. He has fragments- what he's learned from the team through talking to them and brief glimpses through the mind meld. The closest he's ever gotten to family is Shiro, which is why the Garrison’s refusal to act had destroyed him._

 

_Lance shoves him away- he must’ve taken too long to answer. “Of course you don't,” Lance accuses bitterly. Laughing humorlessly, he continues. “Do you even **have** a home?” _

 

_Keith hesitates again- for different reasons this time._

_He wants to say **no** , that he’s been looking for a home all his life. That his search is what led him to the Garrison in the first place since Earth never felt like home. But opening up to others isn’t his strong suit- after all, the only constant person in his life has been himself. And a home isn’t a home if it’s just one person, is it?_

_He’s also tempted to say **yes** because the castle has grown on him. He has a bed to come back to after piloting to his heart’s content and a kitchen where he can scrounge for food whenever he feels like it. He has the observatory to himself- a place of solace- and he has his lion, Red, whose presence reminds him he isn’t alone. _

_It’s sorta home-ish. As close to a home as he’s ever had._

_“I’m not sure,” he admits._

_It clearly isn’t the answer Lance expected. He brings up his right hand, curled into a fist and rests his knuckles against his mouth. After a moment of consideration, he drops it. “Sit down,” he says quietly. “I’m gonna make you understand.”_

_Keith sighs, sitting down across from Lance. “How?” he can’t help asking._

_“I’m going to **show**_ _you,” Lance retorts. “Since you’re so oblivious.”_

_Keith lets Lance get away with the jab, closing his eyes and opening his mind, wanting to understand._

_“Is your mind clear?” Lance asks._

_Keith can sense the anger hiding in the calmness of his tone. “Crystal,” he answers quickly._

_The images attack him._

_It’s a rapid-fire onslaught of snapshots of Lance with members of his family, so fast that Keith is nearly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people. After a minute, the images fade into something resembling a movie- a memory._

_He’s sitting at a table in the kitchen- it’s a small kitchen, but it’s big enough to fit the family. Keith recognizes Hunk in the crowd._

_His gaze drops down. In front of him is a hemisphere-shaped cake, the icing color and design resembling the moon._

_Lance’s family starts to sing happy birthday to him. Some sing in English and others in Spanish, and Keith feels the happiness swell within him- no, Lance- like a balloon, threatening to burst._

_“This is the last birthday I celebrated at home before I started the Garrison,” Lance narrates in a whisper._

_Keith nods silently, feeling tears prick his- no, **Lance’s**_ _eyes as he surveys the room. He’s embraced by Lance’s mother who exclaims something in Spanish, earning loud laughter from most everyone in the room. One of Lance’s sisters starts slicing the cake and a flash goes off from across the kitchen- someone took a picture._

_“They probably think I’m-” Lance breaks off, unable to finish his sentence and pushes Keith out of his head. He mumbles something in Spanish and then he’s sobbing, shaking uncontrollably._

_Keith freezes, unsure what to do- anything he says likely won’t be reassuring. He can’t offer words of wisdom or sage advice. So he does the only thing he can think of._

_Lance let Keith into his head- now it’s Keith's turn to let Lance in._

_“Just watch,” Keith says forcefully. When Lance looks over at him, incredulous, he points his fingers at his temples and projects his thoughts._

_He starts from the beginning._

 

_The darkness isn’t due to the absence of light- it’s the absence of memory. He has a few phrases of Japanese he doesn’t understand, the rumble of a train car, the smell of pine- no visual recollections from when he was very young._

 

_Nothing to remember his parents by._

 

_The images start with the insides of cars. His fingers drum against the armrests on the doors, his feet swinging in the air. He flashes to some old papers, the text blurry but the ‘Department of Social Services” headline clear. Then to the inside of another car that looks the same, but this time his feet touch the floor. Then the car ride where the tips of his sneakers stretch under the seat in front of him._

 

_Keith shows Lance the empty bedrooms with the beds pushed into the corners- the one with the pale blue walls, the light grey, the cinderblock, the fading cream- hoping he’s conveying the notion of not belonging anywhere. He recalls Lance’s memory of his family and squashes what he recognizes as envy._

 

_Hearing Lance’s sharp intake of breath he pushes on, moving to the calendars- year after year, crossing off his birthday like it was any other day. There were a few parties when he was young, and cake a few times but nothing big- nothing like what Lance had shown him, and certainly nothing on the level that Allura had been describing._

 

_He transitions to his Garrison bunk, his first time in the flight simulator, and his determination to get to the stars, giving Lance an overview of his dream of finding a home._

 

_It’s safe to say Keith still doesn’t have a good grasp on what home is- but he knows that for him, it isn’t Earth. He gets that Lance has a family and a home he misses terribly, and that he probably thinks Keith doesn’t miss Earth._

 

_Lance snorts. “You got **that** right.”_

 

 _And he’s not wrong- Keith doesn’t miss Earth that much._ _Lance may think him... lucky because of it (he isn’t really sure if lucky is the right word but uses it anyway). But he wants Lance to understand that throughout his life, he hasn’t really had the opportunity to miss things- that Lance is lucky to have something to miss, because he doesn’t._

 

_Keith doesn’t intend to share his hope of finding a family someday but it rises up nonetheless. Feeling like he’s gotten way too personal- if over-oversharing is a word, he’d use it- and pulls away from the mind meld, closing off. He’s preparing to stand when Lance speaks._

_“My god, mullet head,” he says, sniffling, and Keith knows he’s done **something** right if Lance is back to calling him names. “You haven’t had the birthday party experience.”_

_Keith frowns in confusion. “The what?”_

_“The birthday party experience, mullet head. We gotta fix this.”_

_***_

_A few days later, Pidge blares Lance’s music through the ship’s speakers as the team sits down to have goo that somehow tastes like cake, courtesy of Hunk._

_“Is all Earth music like this?” Allura asks after the cake has been decimated._

 

_“No,” Pidge says, rolling their eyes. “Just Lance’s music.”_

 

_“I don’t understand. Why is this person singing about a dragon wanting to retire?”_

_Lance clears his throat, grinning ridiculously. "Well, you see, Princess..."_

 

_They’re up late into the evening, playing games, joking, and talking._

_***_

_“So, mullet head,” Lance says on the way back to their rooms, “what did you think of the birthday party experience?”_

_Keith tilts his head to the side in consideration. “It was alright,” he replies, deep in thought._

_“Only alright?” Lance exclaims, surprised. “Okay. You know what? Never mind,” he says, backing away. “Not gonna let you ruin my party.”_

_Keith’s mind is already elsewhere. “’Night,” he says, heading into his room._

_***_

 

He used to think home was a place.

 

It couldn’t be just any place. It had to be one of extreme gravitational force- sort of like a black hole. The energy there, the people you grow up with- the environment continuously pulls you back, even across light-years upon light-years of space.

 

Keith had lived in too many places, never long enough to consider any of them a home. He’d just… lived there. That was about it.

 

It never occurred to him until just recently that home didn’t have to be a place. It could be a person. Or people. It’s unbounded by time and location, and it’s only a home if you think it is.

 

He’s been doing a lot of thinking, lately.

 

First thing when he wakes up in the morning, while he spars in the training room, in between defending the universe and sleeping, and especially when he can't sleep.

 

When someone asks him where he’s from, his answer used to be _“It’s... complicated.”_ Hesitate long enough and the subject gets dropped.

 

The asking doesn’t bother him. He gets that curiosity isn’t just a human thing- it’s an alien thing too. The uncomfortable part is not having an answer.

 

If someone asks him now, he’s usually spared from answering. Lance butts in with a space movie reference- _“A galaxy far, far away,”_ for example- or just a _“nowhere in particular.”_ He recalls _“shut your quiznak”_ to be surprisingly effective as well.

  
In any case, whatever it is lets him avoid the question and closes the discussion.

 

He remembers the first time it happened- Lance had done it automatically, pausing his own conversation like it was the most natural thing in the universe, interjecting a casual “it's actually not that interesting,” and then returning to giving his account of the events, pulling the questioning alien along with him. Keith’s initial shock simmered into relief and then into a seed of warmth he would later identify as gratitude.

 

Warmth wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to. But with each day he spent with the team, he felt it settling deeper and deeper under his skin, so deep it might be in his bones by now.

 

And the threat of having that warmth taken away is yet another thing that keeps him awake and worried late into the night.

 

\---

 

_Keith knows he’s dangerous._

 

_He still remembers when Zarkon told him he fights “like a Galra soldier.” And how, even though he fought on like the remark didn’t matter, it left a scar on his mind- one that carved doubt into him about his origins, layer by layer, running his brain in so many circles it’s a wonder he was actually able to sleep, much less form Voltron._

 

 _At least now he has an explanation for his heritage- that helps him sleep easier._ _But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a weapon- one that even the Galra Empire tried to recruit._

 

_***_

 

_The team had tried to keep the intel that Keith was part Galra from Zarkon for as long as possible, but a confrontation was inevitable._

 

_One of Zarkon’s proxies had sent a transmission to the castle when the team was strategizing on the bridge._

 

_“I am Rathek of the Galra Empire! Emperor Zarkon demands you hand over the lions-” he pauses to squint at the display. “Who is **that?** ” _

 

_Hunk hastily moves in front of Keith as the team regroups. “Who’s who?”_

 

_“Behind you!”_

 

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hunk continues, stalling. “There’s no one behind me.”_

 

_The team follows Hunk’s lead. “Nope,” Pidge chimes in. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shiro says helpfully. “You should get your eyes checked.” (That would be Lance.)_

 

_“Are you holding a Galra hostage?”_

 

_The team freezes collectively. That wasn’t a response they’d anticipated._

 

_“No-” Shiro starts, only to be interrupted with varying adamant denials. “Of course not!” “Heck no!” “Seriously, dude, you should see whatever the Galra equivalent of an ophthalmologist is. You are blind.”_

 

_Allura raises her hand to silence them, approaching the transmission terminal. “You know as well as I do that we do not take hostages,” she responds with practiced ease._

 

_“Then is that or is that **not** a Galra on your ship?” Rathek asks, furious. _

 

_In Allura’s hesitation Rathek has his answer. “Who is this traitor?” he roars. “I demand to see them at once! I-”_

 

_Keith is done. He steps out from behind Hunk and emerges into the transmission view, waving his purple hand. “Not a traitor,” he says by way of introduction, pausing to cover a yawn. “Can I help you?”_

 

_Muffled laughter sounds from behind him._

 

_Rathek frowns. “Not a traitor?”_

 

_Keith fakes another yawn, not bothering to cover it this time. “I believe you’ve mistaken me for someone else. No traitors here.”_

 

_“Then who are you?”_

 

_Keith can’t believe this person- no, alien- hasn’t learned how to make inferences. “You really don't know?” he asks, incredulous. Letting out a short laugh, he goes on. “Would it help if I put on a paladin suit?”_

 

_Rathek’s image freezes for a second, then clears to him slack-jawed in front of the terminal. “You’re a **paladin?** ”_

 

_Keith rolls his eyes. “That’s what I just said.”_

 

_“Get your ears checked too!” Lance jeers from behind him._

 

_Rathek turns to someone offscreen. “Send a message to Lord Zarkon at once! Inform him-” He pauses, as though remembering something important. “The lions! Yes, the lions! Hand them over!” he demands, returning to the original topic._

 

_Keith raises an eyebrow. “Or else?”_

 

_“Or else you'll be destroyed at the hands of one of Lord Zarkon's most ruthless generals-”_

 

_“I’m not feeling very threatened, here,” Keith interrupts casually. “Guys?”_

 

_“Uh- uh.” “No.” “Destroyed? Not very intimidating. Try ‘annihilated’ next time.”_

 

_Rathek sputters._

 

_“Be seeing you,” Keith says, offering a half-assed salute before ending the transmission._

 

_“Savage,” Lance remarks into the silence._

 

_The bridge is quiet for a moment before laughter drowns it out._

 

_“Please tell me we have a video log of our side of the transmission,” Pidge says, holding their sides, wheezing._

 

_Keith sits back down, rubbing his forehead. Turning to Lance, he asks, “Where the hell did you pull that opthamolo-whatever word from?”_

 

_Lance grins, gesturing to his brain._

 

 _“Well,” Allura says, trying to keep a smile off her face, “that was very..._ **_diplomatic_** _.”_

 

_***_

 

_While the team was able to quickly neutralize Rathek’s joke of an attempt to destroy them, Zarkon got what he wanted: a face-to-face encounter with the Galra paladin._

 

_Keith had been targeted from the start._

_Despite the team’s goal of sticking together, he’d been carefully isolated from them in order to be recruited._

 

_The thought of it sickens him- what if Zarkon is able to manipulate him somehow? Take advantage of his Galra physiology remotely?_

 

_Keith shudders, pushing the nerves aside. There’s no time for him to be afraid- no time to even think about the fear. He opens Red’s comm channel so his voice will reach Zarkon. “You wanted to see me?”_

 

_He isn’t sure why he said that. It’s something Lance would say, a cliché one-liner out of a random movie. But it gives him a lifeline- if he can’t think of his own words, he can borrow someone else’s. He’s not alone._

 

_Zarkon’s face is unreadable. “So your hands are no longer fledgling hands,” he remarks, tilting his head to the side in thought. “Just think of what you could learn from your own kind. From me.”_

 

_Keith scoffs. Zarkon really thought he could convince him- a paladin, a proud defender of the universe- to join the very organization he was fighting against? “Not interested,” he replies without hesitation._

 

_“You cannot be bothered to even consider…” Zarkon says, voice trailing off. “Perhaps you can be persuaded by other means.”_

 

_Keith swallows, staring at Zarkon as unflinchingly as he can- gods, what if they’re related?_

 

_The thought is laughably nauseating. The churning in his gut spreads to his lion- Red trembles, thriving on his impatience, his fury, his disgust._

 

_“You can have your own fleet,” Zarkon offers._

 

_“I have no interest in a fleet.” Red paws the surface of the ship, readying to lunge and end the conversation, when-_

 

_“Do you have an interest in your father?”_

 

_Keith feels his limbs turn to ice. His **father?**_

 

_“Your weakness is obvious,” Zarkon continues, smirking. “Curiosity. It destroys you even now. You want answers. You want the truth.”_

 

_Sure, Keith is curious, but that doesn’t mean he’ll act recklessly because of it. Zarkon wants him to take the bait-the mere prospect of information on his father- to lose all control and charge forward, unthinking, like last time, but he’s changed._

 

_“If you think you have any idea what I want...” Keith slides his bayard into the ignition, his sword appearing clutched in Red’s maw. “You’re wrong.”_

 

_Zarkon laughs, amused. “You are in denial.”_

 

_Denial?_

 

_Yeah, it’s true that he’d sulked in denial for several days after finding out he was part Galra- but without the team there to support him, it could have been weeks. They’d reminded him that they cared about him, no matter where he was from, and that he would always have a place with them- he’s part of Voltron. Part of a family._

 

_So the promise of irrelevant knowledge doesn’t tempt him in the slightest._

 

_“I think you’re the one in denial,” Keith counters, enjoying the surprised look on Zarkon’s face. “Doesn’t it terrify you? Your own weakness?”_

 

_“What weakness would you have me believe I have, boy?”_

 

_Keith sighs. **He asked for it.** “You’re old.”_

 

_Zarkon barks out a laugh. “I’ve lived far more lifetimes than you-”_

 

_“Yeah, by using quintessence,” Keith interrupts. “That’s how you’ve managed to stay alive and powerful this long. But what about when your body starts rejecting it? When it becomes immune?”_

 

_Zarkon’s expression morphs into a mix of shock and outrage._

 

_Keith presses on. “Wait, don’t tell me- it’s already started?”_

 

_“What are you talking about?”_

 

_Zarkon’s voice sounds more confused than angry, but that doesn’t mean Keith is wrong. “The bayard’s become more difficult to wield, hasn’t it?” Keith drums his fingers on Red’s console. “Not just because you’re old. Because its allegiance is shifting, moving on from you.”_

 

_“I **am** the black paladin, boy, and I will take back Voltron!”_

 

_Keith resists the urge to laugh. “You **were** the black paladin,” he corrects. “Your hold on the universe is weakening, Zarkon.”_

 

_With a yell, Zarkon pulls the black bayard and slashes at Red, lunging sideways and slashing again. The strikes glance off Keith’s sword, Red taking a step back to compensate for the strength of the blows._

 

_“I **will** take back Voltron!” Zarkon repeats, his voice suddenly much louder as the bayard slices across Keith’s vision, scrambling the memory._

 

***

 

_Keith recognizes the bridge of the castle- and that it’s going up in flames._

 

_He doesn’t have his armor and none his friends are in sight. Shots sound from nearby and Keith drops to the floor, edging to the side of a doorway. The ship rumbles beneath his feet._

 

_This isn’t good._

 

_Keith staggers into the hallway, hefting his bayard with one hand, the other out for balance. His eyes flick between his options- left, right, or forward, the corridors flipping between bright and dim with the alarm lights- is that a flash of blue?_

 

_“Lance!”_

 

_The blue stops, gets closer, and comes to a stop in front of him. “Keith?”_

 

_“Lance!” he shouts, relieved. He feels like his voice has been obliterated. “Where is everyone? We’ve got to get out-” Keith sees the wounds._

_Lance’s left jacket sleeve has been singed off, the skin blistering from a heat blast. He’s clutching his side and limping, his energy rifle dangling loosely in his other hand. “The med pod rescheduled my appointment,” he jokes._

_Keith is torn between screaming, falling to his knees in relief, kissing the fool, or doing all three. But what they really need to do is get out of here. "I'll take you in Red-”_

 

_“He has Voltron, Keith.” Lance sags to the floor with this admission._

 

_The team comes first. **Lance** comes first. “Escape pod, then.” _

 

_The ship groans, the floor cracking under them as they move along. “Where are you hurt?”_

 

_“Well, it hurts everywhere, but-”_

 

_“Lance!” Keith blurts, exasperated._

 

_Lance just grins. “I’m fine-”_

 

_“No, you’re not,” Keith interrupts as the ship groans some more. “Let’s go-”_

 

_“Keith,” Lance says, his voice soothing even within the chaos. “It’s going to be fine if you just-”_

 

_Just what? Leave him there? Forget him? “I can’t lose you, you’re my-”_

 

_“Wake up,” Lance finishes quietly, smiling as his image flickers._

 

_He’s a hologram._

 

_Keith’s breath falters as Lance’s image fades, his words getting stuck in his throat._

 

 **_You’re my home_ ** _, he’d been about to say._

 

_It’s a terrifyingly exhilarating revelation, one that has his pulse racing, hands sweating, feet falling out from under him and his heart breaking. “Lance!” he cries out desperately._

 

_“Mullet head, I’m right here.”_

 

Keith sits up fast, head spinning and breathing hard, still dizzy from slumber. Blinking, he recognizes that the blurry object in front of him is _Lance._

 

He pulls Lance into his arms, burying his face in the crook of Lance’s neck. The tears crest over like a dam breaking, relief thundering through him like a tsunami. _Lance is fine. He hasn’t lost him. He’s right here._

 

“Mullet head?” Lance asks tentatively, his voice quiet and laced with worry. He returns the embrace, fingers sliding up into Keith’s hair.

 

The comforting gesture makes Keith hug him tighter. He tries to ebb the flow of tears without much success. It takes him a few minutes to adjust back to reality, where Lance is safe- uninjured and tangible and _real_.

 

“C’mon, mullet head,” Lance says, pulling Keith to his feet and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Let’s go back to the room. Get some sleep. The bed’s more comfy than the floor, right?”

 

Keith can’t bring himself to speak yet, so he nods, scooping his pillow off the floor and leaving the observatory behind.

 

\---

 

The walk back to the room is quiet with the exception of Keith’s sniffles. He can’t help noticing that Lance’s hand on his waist is _warm_.

 

Keith feels almost feverish, Lance’s touch prompting the cloud of dust between his ribs to collapse, forming his heart like a star.

 

The heat is heavy but not unbearable, resting comfortably between his lungs. He takes a breath, the sensation not new but... different.

 

By the time Keith returns to observing his surroundings, he’s in Lance’s room again. The lights are dim, blanket crumpled where he’d thrown it aside earlier that night. Lance pulls Keith’s pillow out of his hands and sets it in the bunk, settling back on the bed.

 

Keith follows him, setting his bayard on the floor next to the bed before crawling in. He takes a shuddering breath. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“You just did.” Lance gives him a cheesy grin, but his eyes are relaxed, inviting him to ask his actual question.

 

Keith has no reason to hesitate this time. “Home is somewhere you feel safe, right?” He drops his gaze to his fingers, stretching them to rest comfortably within Lance’s.

 

“Of course,” Lance answers without hesitation.

 

“Then my home is right here,” Keith says, meeting Lance’s eyes as he raises their intertwined fingers.

 

“My bed?” Lance wiggles his eyebrows. “Smooth, mullet head. Very smooth.”

 

Keith rolls his eyes, deciding he doesn’t have to repress his smile. “You swooning yet?”

 

Lance laughs quietly. “In your dreams, mullet head.”

 

[Keith pulls Lance close](http://gretateg.tumblr.com/post/147666391423/i-feel-always-like-keith-is-the-protective-one-i), still thinking. “You’re home to me,” he whispers, the words illuminating the end of his long, exhausting search.

  
Lance sucks in a breath. “Okay, I’m swooning.” He pushes Keith’s hair out of his face and kisses his forehead. “Sweet dreams, mullet head.”

 

Keith relaxes into the mattress, into Lance’s arms, into _home_. “‘Night, Lance.”  

 

\---

 

Home _is_ a place of gravitational force.

 

Through galaxy after galaxy, light-year upon light-year, it holds you steady in the vastness of the universe, its pull keeping you grounded no matter how far away from it you are.

 

It’s a comforting presence in the back of your mind, it’s a place of growth. A place that’s constant through the inconsistencies of life. A place of light, where the tension is lifted from your shoulders and you can breathe.

 

A place of gravity.

 

\---

 

_Well, you know what they say about gravity?_

 

_It’s a fundamental force of attraction._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am in no way trying to diminish the importance of the other team Voltron members and Allura and Coran. They are all wonderful human and alien beings and I love them very much. 
> 
> Artist's works (in order of scene appearance):
> 
> [ _I want to know more about Keith_](http://baileynm.tumblr.com/post/146828254372/i-want-to-know-more-about-keith) by baileynm  
>   
> [ _What a shame_](http://abbuneki.tumblr.com/post/147295273618/abbuneki-what-a-shame-bonus) by abbuneki  
>   
> [ _Smile_](https://chartron.tumblr.com/post/146098238435/smile) by chartron  
>   
> [ _Good Team_](http://fishuus.tumblr.com/post/146970267702/good-team) by fishuus  
>   
> [ _I feel always like Keith is the protective one_](http://gretateg.tumblr.com/post/147666391423/i-feel-always-like-keith-is-the-protective-one-i) by gretateg  
>   
>  Additional thanks to NASA for the info I used for some of the space metaphors.  
>   
> Please scream with/at me in the comments.  
>   
> Also, if you listened to the playlist, let me know your thoughts!  
>   
> This is my first finished fic (second one I've written), so feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated!  
>   
> Thank you for reading!


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